The Unopened Box (ch 1) Opening Pandora (ch 2)
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: Tumblr Whouffle Prompt: A short piece about a jealous!Doctor? (And I got a request for a sequel, so this is posted in two parts.)
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor had known jealousy before; it wasn't a foreign concept to him – but it always surprised him. Maybe because he'd been around long enough for him to know it was a petty emotion, a useless emotion, a baseless emotion and yet, he felt it churn through his veins, turning his stomach, pumping at his hearts, and searing the skin at his collar. And despite every logical bit of his brain yelling at him to accept the sight before him, to ignore the feelings he was experiencing, to walk away and have a bite to eat and wait for her back at the Tardis, he knew that jealousy was nothing if not illogical.

And it definitely made one do illogical things.

Like stand awkwardly behind a shield of multi-colored shawls to watch the way she smiled at the strange man who held a dress in his hands, discussions of her making the purchase gone and replaced with flirtatious banter and unexpected laughter. It was what had caught his attention in the first place: her laugh, a smidge louder than it generally was, and just a tiny bit… more _feminine_?

He couldn't put his finger on what had made it different, but when he'd glanced over, she was just finishing running a hand over the salesman's as he held a sparkling red dress up for her approval. Any of his other companions and he imagined he'd have gone over; he'd have embarrassed her; he'd have scowled at the dress and he'd have beckoned her to continue walking with him because to him it would have been a waste of time. A bit of a frivolity, the purchase of a souvenir in a time and place they ought not be.

But Clara gave him pause because he considered why she was laughing; why she was examining the dress even though he knew she'd never afford it; why she'd continue talking to the awkward man with the scraggily beard and the oversized eyes and the nose… the Doctor huffed. He dropped back behind the curtain of colors as she turned in his direction, pretending to examine a necklace on a tray in front of a woman who eyed him knowingly.

"Where do you travel from?"

His voice was deep, seductive, tinged with an accent that made the Doctor think of a leprechaun, but he could hear the soft chuckle she gave as she told him, "Quite a ways away, actually."

"Do you travel alone?"

There was a pause in which his jaw fell slightly and his brow furrowed because it was a dangerous question to answer. What if he was trying to decide if he was going to kidnap you; eat you; rip you apart; turn you into a robot for fun to be rented out at parties – of course you're not alone, Clara Oswald, and don't you dare… "No, with a fellow, should be wandering about; surprised he's not here, actually…"

"A fellow," he cooed teasingly.

Clara laughed again, "Oh, no, it's not like that." _It most certainly isn't_. "He's a good friend."

Setting the necklace down, he frowned. Of course he was a good friend. Why did her calling him a good friend sink like a rock in his stomach? He knew exactly why. The Doctor took a long breath and straightened as the man asked, "Maybe your good friend would appreciate you better in this dress."

There was silence and the Doctor chanced to peek back around the shawls to see her looking shyly to the ground before telling him, "I don't think a dress is what would get his attention," then her face stilled as she spoke to the air beside her, "Beginning to wonder whether he chases skirts at all."

"Maybe you need a better fellow to travel with," the man offered, raising a finger to lift her chin and slipping it away when she met his eye.

Clara took a small step back and muttered, "I should really find him; tends to get himself into trouble."

Shifting back, the Doctor watched her zip past, some odd look on her face he'd never seen before, and he glanced back around the corner, to the man now hanging the dress back up on a rack. Walking swiftly towards him, he gestured with a nervous smile and declared with a wave of his psychic paper, "Quality control, from the department of linens and… things – need a few samples to take back to the bosses, you understand…"

When he'd returned to the Tardis, he hid the box, too afraid to admit he'd been watching. Watching, he knew, meant he'd been too afraid to approach. Not approaching, he knew, meant he'd felt something other than the nonchalance he should have been feeling. Feeling something, he knew, would lead Clara's mind to the question of what would keep him standing a few feet away, watching with a scowl.

Clara's mind would know, instantly, that he'd been jealous.


	2. Chapter 2

"Clara," the Doctor called just as she walked into the Tardis from where he was hunched over the console. Closing the doors behind her, Clara slowed her steps onto the main platform and she smiled, waiting and then tilting her head trying to find the man and seeing the mess of wires hanging over the controls.

She glanced back towards the doors and then gestured at him. "You flew the Tardis," she told him sternly, "With its innards hanging out?"

He lifted his head, peering around the time rotor to find her smirking at him and the Doctor offered a small grin before gesturing with a wrench and replying plainly, "It's Wednesday."

She pointed at him with narrowed eyes and mischievously shot, "It's a _time machine_, could be Wednesday after your repairs."

The Doctor's cheeks burned brightly and he looked away quickly, leaning, Clara knew, away from her line of sight again before he asked, "Need a tool box down below, would you mind retrieving it for me?"

"_My_ _Wednesday_," she huffed, "And I've got to spend it _repairing your ship_."

He laughed, "It'll just take a moment, Clara. We'll be off before you can say…" he considered, and then waved a hand, "A very long, complicated word – second compartment," he began as she hopped down the stairs, "Bright green, can't miss it – just beside the whirly red thing and underneath the…" he straightened, clamoring towards her as she swung the large door underneath the Tardis console open and began peering inside, lifting items to toss aside to find the tools he needed and when she heard the box she'd just dropped pop open, she glanced sideways just as he landed on the ground a few feet away.

"I know that…" Clara whispered to herself before raising her eyes to see the nervous way he stood hunched, frozen in place, and she repeated, "I know that dress; I didn't buy that dress. Did you buy that dress, Doctor?"

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, hands hovering in front of himself, fingers working against each other nervously as he lifted both of his forefingers and chuckled. "Of course, _dress_. Of course I bought that dress," then he looked aside and shrugged, "Well, technically, I didn't _buy_ the dress – I _acquired_ it."

"Acquired it for whom?" Clara interrupted, bending to retrieve the box.

Again, the Doctor tilted his head and his mouth worked like a fish out of water, mind unsure of the correct answer before the fingers of his right hand unfurled in her direction and, with a sheepish laugh, he offered, "For you, actually, Clara. I got the dress for you."

Eyebrows coming down heavily, Clara was considering it and the Doctor's hand recoiled, clasping over the other as he waited for the question he knew was waiting on her tongue. "We went to that marketplace ages ago, Doctor," then she brightened, "Was this supposed to be a birthday gift? Did you forg…" she quieted, then frowned, "No, you got me the bowtie cardigan on my birthday – _Christmas_?"

"No," he told her smugly.

Head slanting, Clara said calmly, "If it wasn't a gift for my birthday, or for Christmas… Is there some Gallifreyan celebration I should know about?" She smiled mischievously, "Because I could get you something in return if I knew the ru…"

He waved his hands at her and then planted them on his waist, "No, no, I just got it for you because I could see that you liked it."

"But you've had this… _all this time_?" Clara shook her head and then asked quietly, "Why hadn't you given it to me?"

"I didn't want you to know," he began softly, ducking his head shyly before meeting her eyes to boldly declare, "I didn't want you to know that I was watching you in the market that day because I knew what you'd think – I knew the _logical conclusion_ you'd come to in that mind of yours and I couldn't be sure… So I bought it because I could see in your eyes that you loved it; but then I couldn't give it to you without…"

"Admitting you were watching me," she interrupted with a laugh before frowning and asking, "Doctor, why were you? You could have just," her sentence stopped with a small intake of air; the dark eyes growing wider as she looked to the ground and the Doctor chuckled.

"Yes," he admitted, taking a small step forward.

"I was talking with the salesman; he was trying to convince me to buy the dress," she wrinkled her nose, "He was getting flirty."

The Doctor nodded slowly and mumbled, "Well, you were quite flirty yourself."

"You were _jealous_," she pointed, then laughed, then went still, repeating solemnly, "_You_ were _jealous_."

He reached out to take hold of the box, but Clara tightened her grip before he could strip it away as he pulled the box in his direction and explained, "I could take it back. Tell them it was a mix up; tell them I got the wrong size. Tell them…"

"Too late now," she smiled, tugging it back towards her, "Can't take it back."

Raising his eyes, he jerked his arms inward and shrugged while returning his gaze to her, "Time machine; I can always return merchandise."

"Good to know," she spat, then Clara shifted the box back into her gut with an oomph as she raised her eyebrows and allowed, "I'd like to try it on first then – _just to see how it would look_."

Drawing the box back to himself roughly, he spat, "You wouldn't have to try it on to know you'd look beautiful in it."

He glanced up to see the smile on her face and he relaxed his hold on the box, swallowing hard as she plucked it from his hands and turned, taking several steps around the underside of the console and the Doctor remained still, hearing the ruffle of clothes and then the distinct sound of her undoing the zipper on her skirt. He clenched his hands at his sides and slowly leaned forward, catching sight of her bare back just before the dress went over her head and she tugged it over waist.

Clara released a small giggle that affected him in the worst way and when she pranced back around to twirl in front of him, sending the bottom of the dress spinning around her, he closed his eyes and took a breath, warning himself to keep his cool. _You're Mr. Cool, remember, Doctor_. Except she poked him in the stomach and when he opened his eyes, she was grinning up at him, body still swaying slightly so the edges of the dress continually swung around her thighs. Thighs, it hadn't been lost on him, that weren't covered in their usual black tights.

"Tell me I'm beautiful now," she cooed.

Dropping his head to return her smile, he looked her in the eyes and sighed, "Clara, you are beautiful."

"Tell me you were jealous," she prompted, straightening and clasping her hands in front of her.

The Doctor chuckled to himself, nodding, and he supplied, "I was jealous."

Twisting her lips slightly, Clara asked, "And _why_ were you jealous?"

"Because you are beautiful," he answered slowly.

"You're jealous of my beauty?" She teased.

Releasing a long breath, he bent slightly to step fully underneath the console and he laid his hands softly at her shoulders, watching the way her body stilled as he let his fingers drift slowly over the short sleeves and then onto her arms and down to take her hands to lift them. Clara glanced down at herself as she gave her hips another shift before glancing up to see the sad way his eyes watched her and she nodded slowly, as if giving him permission to tell her what he was thinking – that thought he was holding at the tip of his tongue that she knew he was afraid to divulge.

Like the fact that he'd gotten jealous in a shop months ago on a strange planet. "Doctor," she prompted, "What are you jealous of, exactly?"

Looking her over with a sheepish smile and pink cheeks, he shook his head and admitted, "I'm jealous that some other man will see you in this dress one day and you'll no longer want to travel with me because I could never give you what that other man could," he raised his eyes back to meet hers and she knew he meant a normal life, a normal home, a normal family.

"Would it be alright," she began slowly, stopping her own words with a nervous swallow as she felt her heart begin to pound in her chest at the thoughts she was having – at the look in his eyes that told her he was thinking the same. Pulling her hands out of his, she raised them to his cheeks, feeling the warmth in them as she whispered, "I'm going to kiss you, Doctor."

He was nodding when their lips met and Clara could feel his hands hovering over her waist on either side, as if terrified of touching her again, terrified that without the guise of examining her dress, he would be allowing himself to indulge in her completely and Clara inhaled slowly before bringing his lips apart with hers to tease at his tongue with her own, smiling when his fingers dropped tightly onto her. She slid her hands up into his hair and he began to shift into her, palms wrapping around her to arch her back up towards his body.

Clara could feel the surge of heat rolling through her and she shifted back, blinking up at him to see the lazy way he was now looking at her. She touched her right thumb to his bottom lip, left hand dropping to his shoulder, holding tight to him because she was off balance in his grip. His mouth split open in a goofy grin as he pulled the Sonic from his trouser pocket and gave it a buzz. Clara heard something clatter down behind her just as he began to move forward and she let out a small gasp of surprise when her backside sank into the odd contraption she'd seen him use to do repairs underneath the console.

"Doctor?" She questioned on a laugh, watching him carefully lower himself to his knees before taking hold of the ropes holding the swing in place.

"Clara," he began, head dipping down so they were only an inch from each other and she smirked when their noses brushed and he whispered, "I'm going to kiss you."

She smiled as he bridged the gap and Clara held the ropes at her sides, hands just underneath his as he dropped a set of soft kisses to her lips, each time separating to breathe hotly against her waiting mouth and she felt her head spinning, eager for him to meet her fully. So much so that when his top lip touched hers for the fourth time and he settled there, she let out a small moan of yearning as her brow came together in agony and when he shifted, head tilting, bottom lip coming up to seal over her mouth, she reached for his shirt to hold him in place.

Clara's hands gripped at the thin material and she could feel the vibrations of his palms slipping down over the rope to find her shoulder blades and then drop down into the bucket to cup her backside to pull her against him. She shifted, knees coming apart to hook her legs around his lanky frame and Clara dropped her head forward when she felt him hardening against her, grinding at her ever so slowly and when they split apart, they did so with foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, gasping into each other.

He whispered her name and she sighed, "Yes, Doctor?"

"I'm going to… If I could… Could I…" he began, but his voice cracked on each attempt at a sentence and his head twisted slightly against hers, as if he were reconsidering his thoughts; reconsidering their actions, and Clara nudged him back with a small laugh before she reached around to take his hands in hers.

With a small smile as she watched him looking down at their intertwined hands, Clara unfurled their fingers and she settled his palms on the skin just above her knees. She waited, feeling his muscles twitch against the need to roam and after a moment he squeezed at her flesh lightly, raising his eyes to hers and she told him quietly, "There was never anything to be jealous of." His fingers slipped slightly inward and she inhaled, adding, "I wanted to buy the dress to wear for you."

The Doctor's hands drifted upwards, digits shifting underneath the material as Clara kissed both corners of his mouth and she let out a gasp of a laugh when his eyes came up sharply, small surprised smile at finding her naked underneath. She shrugged and he shook his head, leaning into her to kiss her again as his fingers began their exploration, eliciting small inhales and noises of satisfaction. Clara dropped her head into his shoulder when he slipped inside of her, hearing him groan against her wetness – ready for him.

She sucked at his neck, hearing him undoing the buttons of his pants with his free hand as he exhaled shakily against her ear, withdrawing from her to stroke at himself before he slowly dipped into her, shuddering when she released a hushed and broken high note against his shoulder. Clara listened as he tasted her on his fingers and then he dropped his hands to her waist as she shifted in the swing, holding to him as he began to rock her into him.

In the quiet of the Tardis console the creaks of the swing and the gentle repetitive thud of their bodies connecting seemed amplified in Clara's head and when she felt herself reaching her climax, she shouted out in frustration because it had come all too quickly. But the Doctor drove into her harder, arms circling her to hold her safely in place as her body arched itself into him and she released a strangled cry into his shoulder while he urged her on, feeling his own end building as she began to erupt around him.

The Doctor croaked her name in her ear, but Clara could only hear the pounding of her heart. She could only feel the quick thrusts of his length burrowing deeper and deeper into her, not quite painfully, but at that excruciatingly perfect point just before and then she felt his release, bursting within her and offering a second wave of pleasure through her body. They exhaled together, frozen in that moment and Clara laughed softly as he lifted his head and when she caught sight of his tears, she shook her head, bringing her palms to his cheeks again to wipe them away.

"Doctor, no," she pleaded quietly, shaking her head.

He dropped back away from her and Clara closed her eyes against the feel of him leaving her body, that last bit of stimulation sending a shiver over her skin and she could hear him grunting in frustration as he pulled his trousers back up to close them. She watched him move towards the steps where he leaned his palms against the railing on either side and Clara lifted herself out of the swing, looking over the tension mounting in his shoulders again. She moved towards him slowly, hand up and sliding over his side as she ducked underneath his arm and walked up two steps so she could turn and stand at eye level.

"Don't," she warned.

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes when she pressed her forehead to his again, her cool palm finding his cheek before she pulled him into a hug he returned, holding her tightly, "We can't," he mumbled into her shoulder, "Who I am; what I do – _the things that happen around me_. Clara, I can't give you what you _want_."

With a small laugh, she shifted back, kissing him gently and smiling when he kissed her back, his lips lingering on hers as though reveling in their mere existence, and Clara allowed him that because she knew he'd rarely gotten the chance. He withdrew, he closed himself off, and what they'd just done went against everything screaming inside of him to keep her safe. Watching her speaking to a man across the market with jealousy, she knew, broke one of his rules – don't fall in love.

She inched away and brushed the flop of bangs out of his face as he stared at her with a mixture of sadness and longing and she sighed because she'd done exactly the same. Dropping her arms over each other behind his neck, she knew they were both in trouble, but then she smiled – when weren't they. Clara kissed each of his cheeks slowly before sighing and telling him quietly, "You are _exactly_ what I want."


End file.
